Finally it was time to head to the ferry to board for my voyage up the inside passage…the excitement was building! I had booked an inside roomette and I was surprised to learn that you can choose to camp in a tent on the deck of the ship! Or you can even just commandeer a deck chair and sleep on that in a sleeping bag! They thoughtfully provide lockers so you can lock up your stuff, and you can use the showers and even hire a towel. I learnt later from other passengers that the cabins are often booked out well in advance, making sleeping on the deck the only alternative. My 2-berth roomette was snug, with a tiny table and chairs that converted to a bed like in a caravan with a fold down bed on the wall over. Other than that there was a metal shelf and a reading light. It was cosy and I had a bed so I was happy! The bathroom was down a hallway that was punctuated at regular intervals with seasickness bags in holders. Hmmm, ominous I thought.
I met Cathy straight away, a blonde with long hair and a beaming smile who returning to Alaska to live. She told me she had virtually been captive on the ferry for the past 20 or so hours while maintenance work was performed on the ship. The passengers onboard were advised if they got off they would have to stay in Ketchikan for the night. Some went ashore and eventually the remaining 9 passengers were allowed a short excursion into town but had to be quickly back before the ship went into the dry dock overnight. Cathy was a pathologist who grew up in Texas and had moved to Homer in Alaska, then to Pennsylvania for work. We instantly hit it off as we discovered we had a mutual admiration for Amma, an amazing Indian humanitarian. http://www.amma.org
An hour or so later the MV Kennicott, named for a glacier, as all the Alaskan ferries are, set off toward the Wrangell Narrows enroute to Juneau in the wake of a large cruise liner that eventually peeled off into the distance. A small group of passengers – no more than 30 or so stood on the bow of the ship as we left port and watched silently as we glided through the water.
The Wrangell Narrows is a virtual slalom course for small ships with 46 course corrections, guided by over 70 navigational aids that has earned it the nicknames Christmas Tree Lane or Pinball Alley for the coloured lights that must make for pretty sailing in the dark. For this section of the voyage the ship’s Captain is on the bridge and in command with lookouts on the bow, port and starboard. Where is he (she?) at other times I wondered? On average it’s less than a kilometer (half a mile) width shore to shore and the journey must be taken when the mean low low water (MLLW) is +2 feet or deeper which is 6.5m (21 feet) for the ship to operate safely. Thus cruise ships must take an alternative route that adds at least 12 hours to their journey. Voyages are dictated by tide and weather as, if a fog were to descend, the ship would have to weigh anchor and wait for it to lift. In addition appointments are made between vessels as they cannot safely pass along this 32 km (20 mile) marine laneway.
The scenery was breathtaking; small islands covered with dark spruce trees lined by rocky shores that were coloured vivid yellow and orange with lichen. The mainland was generally steep terrain with spruce rainforest that gave way to soaring peaks covered with melting snow that formed into regularly spaced waterfalls and the remains of avalanches. Dolphins surfed next to the boat and seals popped their heads out of the channel periodically.
Later in the bar I met Judy and Rick, a couple in their sixties from Iowa who were on their way to see their son in Willow AK and help him finish a 3 storey house he was building in the forest. The son was a mad keen fisher and hunter and Rick told me of the adventures they had been on together. Once they had gone hunting in Sitka and before they left the son insisted Rick had to prove he was a reasonable shot at a rifle range for safety. Apparently hunting in remote parts of Alaska is extremely dangerous as the carcasses of dead animals attract bears. The hunters then become the hunted. Rick managed to shoot a deer in the distance and they slogged uphill to get to the animal before a bear was upon it. They found that the deer had managed to drag itself with its front hooves some 300 yards distant despite the back legs being paralysed. His son then quickly killed and gutted the animal, tied it on a harness and ran down the hill to put it on their boat, his father in hot pursuit. Once back on the boat Rick remarked how lucky it was they hadn’t encountered a bear and the son laughed and told his Dad he’d seen at least 3 following them down. The story didn’t entice me to take up the ‘sport’ I can assure you!
No comments:
Post a Comment